


Gastronomical!

by tellezara



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Gen, gen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-03
Updated: 2009-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 12:30:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/622155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tellezara/pseuds/tellezara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When living on such a meagre salary, how does a Detective feed himself? Edgeworth is about to find out...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gastronomical!

  
It was just a humble egg mayonnaise sandwich that Edgeworth was eating - the small cafe in People Park had fairly appalling fare, and even the sandwich looked a bit dubious although it was at least in date. In an ideal world he'd be eating in his favourite teahouse around the corner from the DA's office, but when one did field work it was necessary to slum it occasionally. He had duly offered Gumshoe a corner of it as a taste test - though given the Detective's constitution his stamp of approval did not necessarily render the item edible. But as he was taking a bite from his sandwich the tasteless egg-mayo combination was completely overwhelmed by the smell emanating from Gumshoe's lunchbox, which the Detective had just opened.

His was an almost Pavlovian response - saliva flooded his mouth, wish-washing away all trace of egg-mayo, and he breathed in deeply but subtly, eyes flying wide open and pupils dilating at this unexpected gustatory treat. There was sausage, definitely, and tomato, but there was also a strange quality to the aroma that made him think Chinese takeaway, and what was that other smell... garlic? No, it was subtler than that...

"Mmm, grub's up!"

With that explanation Edgeworth knew he only had a moment to turn and identify the source of this sensory smorgasboard, before it disappeared down the Detective's gullet. He was standing next to Gumshoe, who was sat down on the park bench that was covered in dried bird droppings - hence Edgeworth wasn't sitting on it. So he turned and achieved an aerial view of Gumshoe's lunchbox and a big wadge of its contents on a fork enroute to the Detective's gaping cavern of a mouth.

He was nearly sick at the sight of it - it was a wretched heap of sludge, barely identifiable underneath a thick, glutinous covering of sauce, but the delicious odour emanating from it successfully negated the nausea. Just before it disappeared, consigned with a noisy slurp to digestive destruction, Edgeworth managed to identify a weenie and a few strands of noodle. His forgotten sandwich, still held in his hand, dropped chunks of egg mayo onto the grass, to be eagerly swarmed upon by opportunist pigeons.

"What... the hell is that?" he managed to say.

In the brief pause while Gumshoe was still masticating his huge mouthful of food, Edgeworth's stomach betrayed him in the most dreadful way possible. The greedy groan that it issued was on a par with Maya's in both gurgle and volume, and he abruptly clapped his free hand against his stomach, flushing to the roots of his bangs.

Gumshoe turned to look at him, surprised, not sure if he'd heard what he thought he'd heard, but at the sight of Edgeworth his eyes crinkled up at the corners.

"Hahahaha!" he guffawed, mouth wide open to show revoltingly half-chewed food, then he realised he was laughing at his boss and this wasn't on, so he clamped his mouth shut and tried to suppress his chuckles, but only succeeded in choking on his food instead.

"For goodness sake, Detective," Edgeworth barked at him, embarrassment turning him brusque. He slapped Gumshoe on the back, and Gumshoe managed to gulp down his mouthful of lunch. "Answer my question, will you?"

"My lunch, pal?" Gumshoe croaked, thumping his chest. "Aw, well, it's just what I had in the cupboard. Bit of a potluck meal, kinda thing."

"And what you had in the cupboard was...?"

"Well, I dunno," Gumshoe poked the remaining contents of his lunchbox with the fork. "Usual really - weenies," he speared one, freeing it from its trappings of noodles and sauce, "noodles, fried egg, uhhh..." he dug around some more, "oh yeah, forgot I put that cabbage in there. And I had a leftover can of beer so I poured some of that in, and there's like, soy sauce and stuff."

"Beer?" Edgeworth had heard of beer-battered food, but nothing like this. Pot-luck really was the best way to describe it. And it had drawn the short straw on the appearance front - if he didn't know full well that the Detective didn't have the kind of funds to afford a liquidiser, he'd say that the whole thing had been pureed.

"Yeah, well I started cooking it and then I went off to do something and kinda forgot about it. So it's been slow-cooked real good!"

I shouldn't be even inhaling the fumes from this concoction, and yet I want to sample it, Edgeworth thought nervously. He was no stranger to odd cuisine, having dined in more countries than he could count on fingers and toes, but this was... well, it was unique, really. It was doubtful even Gumshoe could manage to recreate something like this.

He breathed in again, eyes drooping a little. It was a heady mix of flavours. And he didn't really want his egg sandwich anymore. So he didn't ask - it was the boss' prerogative, after all - he just bent down, tugged the fork from Gumshoe's fingers and speared the weenie, twiddling it around so it caught up some of the noodles, snagged a bit of fried egg and was sufficiently smothered in that foul-looking sauce, and brought it up. He had to shut his eyes, he couldn't bear the sight of it, but the visual deprivation accentuated the aroma, and the tastebuds on his tongue tingled in anticipation as he snapped his mouth around the fork before everything fell off it.

It tasted as good as it smelled - it was all there, the soy sauce, and he could taste sweet chilli, and there was the texture of fried egg, and a smokey, sausagey taste coloured with a tang. He'd never had a weenie before; this was a new experience, and the whole thing was rather chewy when accompanied by the noodles, giving it bulk and substance. He'd had proper noodles - they weren't meant to require as much chewing effort as this, these were the instant kind that cost a few cents. But proper noodles couldn't really compare with so many other cheap flavours blended in like this. It was a pauper's feast, one that you had to be truly starving to appreciate - and he certainly was, having forgotten about food for the majority of the day in the name of investigation.

He swallowed, catching a few new flavours as it all passed over the back of his tongue - there were some herbs and garlic in there after all.

"Wow, boss, I never thought you'd be interested in my cooking!" Gumshoe exclaimed as Edgeworth handed the fork back to him.

"I was... merely curious." Edgeworth turned away, taking the opportunity to lick his lips and get the last remnants of that sauce.

"So whaddaya think?"

"It was... acceptable," Edgeworth replied, dropping his egg sandwich into the bin. Eating that afterwards would've been akin to following a chocolate pudding with some brussels sprouts.

"That's pretty high praise coming from you, boss!" Gumshoe said cheerily, tucking into the remainder of his lunch. "Though I gotta say, I was pretty proud of myself for this dinner, pal. I haven't had any money to go shopping since my last pay packet so most of it was pretty out of date. But a lot of the mould drops off when you boil stuff, and anything's edible with enough soy sauce, I say!"

There was silence in response to this.

"Boss?" Gumshoe looked up. But Edgeworth was already halfway across the park at a run, crime scene officers scattering from his path to the toilets.


End file.
